


Resurrection & Revitalization

by Amber_Serpent



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dimension Travel, F/M, Ginny Weasley is Helga Hufflepuff, Harry Potter is Salazar Slytherin, Hermione Granger is Rowena Ravenclaw, M/M, Reincarnated Hogwarts Founders, Ron Weasley is Godric Gryffindor, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Serpent/pseuds/Amber_Serpent
Summary: In which Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, the living resurrections of Hogwarts’ Founders, are accidentally sent to a parallel universe where their dead family is alive and their counterparts are dead. Now, they must aid in the battle against Voldemort while keeping it a secret of who they really are against their alternate families and fighting against everyone’s expectations.
Relationships: Godric Gryffindor/Rowena Ravenclaw, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Helga Hufflepuff/Salazar Slytherin, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by is Founders' Heirs by fhrulz21 (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2697767/2/Founders-Heirs), The Founders Four by parihpfan (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8317364/1/The-Founders-Four), and The Founders Four by JadeofMara (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4175330/1/The-Founders-Four).

It was the first of September of 1996. Hogwarts was just beginning to calm from the reintroduction of students for the year.

Some of the older students, merry from the Welcoming Feast, were busy catching up with friends that they hadn’t seen in months. Others were catching up on homework that they’d put off, and some of them had already unpacked their trunks and turned in for an early night.

The younger students, most noticeably the first years, had already settled in for bed. The Welcoming Feast was well-known for its abundance of great foods and desserts, and so it wasn’t a surprise when the lethargic first years fell asleep as soon as their heads met their pillows.

Hogwarts’s staff, like the older students, were busy catching up with their colleagues; some had returned to their summer homes during the holidays, while others had gone on well-deserved vacations. Others were preparing for the new school year and the next batch of new students at Hogwarts.

Headmaster Dumbledore was doing neither of those. Instead, he was sitting into his office with a good book on alchemy, wondering what this year at Hogwarts would bring.

It certainly seemed, that despite the poor events of the previous year, that the new year was off to a nice start.

No students had fallen into the Black Lake this year, the skies were perfectly clear, the twinkling stars promising a retreat of the summer storms.

And so, it was not terribly surprising when a loud _crack_ much like that of Apparition echoed through the mountains, making a golden object on Headmaster Dumbledore’s desk squeal and spin and the previous Headmasters’ portraits to jerk awake. Hogwarts’s wards reacted oddly then, sending off a ripple of powerful magic that was felt by all, reaching even the thousand-year-old basilisk that was slumbering miles beneath the school…


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this chapter took inspiration from the three fics that I said this fic was inspired by in the previous chapter. A lot of it contains my own ideas, but it does have a similar premise to the three other fics. The next chapter will also be similar to some of the chapters in their fics because I like how they introduced the Founders to the rest of the school. In the next chapter (or the one after that), the story will begin to mirror my own plot.
> 
> Also, please be aware that this is one of the only times I'll have a chapter this long. Most of my chapters usually average 3,000-4,000 words long, not the nearly 9,000 words that this chapter contains.
> 
> That said, please enjoy this chapter and tell me what you think about it!

Harry glanced around with sharp eyes. Only seconds previous they (meaning he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny) had stood on a battleground before Voldemort’s body, but something in the spell they’d created had gone wrong, resulting in a blinding backlash of magic that had them appearing in the same field, but something was wrong.

The night was silent and clear and the grass was green, not covered with red, and there were no people except for the four of them to be seen.

Silas, Harry’s magical common tree snake, hissed uneasily from where he was hanging around Harry’s neck. He wasn’t the only one uneasy with the sudden silence.

There was a _crack_ of Apparition and the adrenaline still running through their veins immediately had them moving. They all whipped around in the direction of the sound’s origin and sent stunners from their wands. Four red beams of light ran into witches and wizards cloaked in red, surprising the four of them as it had been over two years since they’d last seen the cloak of an Auror.

Their momentary surprise allowed the remaining Auror to leave his downed fellows with another _crack_.

 _“Call me stupid—_ _”_ started Ron.

 _“You’re stupid,”_ said Ginny automatically.

 _“_ _—b_ _ut these are Aurors, aren’t they?”_ he finished via their mindlink, which was only possible due to the mind-connecting bracelets that they all wore, which had been hand-crafted personally by Harry.

 _“Really, Ginny?”_ Hermione sighed before turning her shrewd eyes to the four Stunned people slumped on the ground before them. She leant down and examined their robes and badges, keeping a hand on her wand just in case one of them were pretending to be Stunned or fought the effects of the Stunner off (which was extremely unlikely due to their spells’ strength but she wasn’t about to risk it). _"Yes, they’re Aurors,”_ she confirmed.

Harry’s lips thinned but that was the only expression he showed. Either someone was screwing with them or something had gone _horribly_ wrong with that last spell they cast.

Not a second later there was another _crack_ of Apparition. Now a little wary, spells did not immediately fly from their wands, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny easily slid into defensive positions as they faced the new arrival.

Instead of one person, there were two, suggesting that one of the men was either extremely powerful or had extremely good control over his magic. And it was only when the second person cast a _Lumos_ did they see _who_ the potentially powerful wizard was.

Harry stood stock-still as he met the cautious blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. The Albus Dumbledore who had _died eight years ago right in front of him_.

The Dumbledore look-alike stepped forward and held his hands out in the universal gesture that meant that they—whoever _they_ were—meant no harm. His eyes trailed over them and it was clear by the subtle widening of his eyes that he recognized who they were and represented.

The four of them were wearing extremely old-fashioned battle robes, weapons, and hairstyles in four different colours and their matching accents. In fact, they looked like they stepped straight out of the very late tenth century. And this not-Dumbledore clearly believed this if his words were anything to go by.

“ _Greetings,_ ” said not-Dumbledore in Old English, only cementing Harry’s thoughts that not-Dumbledore thought he knew who they were and that he was only partially correct, “ _I am Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Who might you be_?”

The four of them blinked at the use of their common old language but easily adapted, having accidentally slipped into it on numerous occasions in the past.

 _“Harry, you take care of this,”_ Hermione suggested through their mindlink. _“You will make a better impression.”_

Harry listened to her suggestion and stepped forward, lowering his wand but not stowing it. One of his hands moved to rest on the hilt of his rapier, showing these two people that his wand was not his only weapon. (He did not reveal the blades hiding in the folds of his cloak, nor the ones strapped to his ankles or sitting inside his boots.) If not-Dumbledore and this other unidentified person who had yet to introduce himself did anything suspicious, then he’d be letting borderline illegal curses fly within a split second.

“ _It is a pleasure, Headmaster Dumbledore_ ,” said Harry in a smooth and low voice, enunciating the _S_ ’s in his speech slightly as he often did out of habit. _“I am Lord Salazar Slytherin and my companions are Lady Helga Hufflepuff, Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, and Lord Godric Gryffindor. May I inquire when you became the headmaster of our school?_ ” Silas hissed his discontent at being left out of the greeting but Harry hissed back that now wasn’t the time. This had the fortunate side effect of showing not-Dumbledore that if he had doubted who Harry was, then he was wrong. (There was, after all, only one other known Parselmouth in Great Britain and he wouldn’t just be having a friendly chat with the Dumbledore look-alike. And that was if he was alive here, wherever _here_ was since it clearly wasn’t where the four of them had just come from.)

Not-Dumbledore’s eyes lit up. “Who is your other companion?” he said, seeming to switch back to English on accident and completely ignoring Harry’s question.

“This is Silas, my familiar,” Harry said in the same language, gesturing to Silas who rose and tasted the air. If not-Dumbledore was surprised at his only slightly-accented use of his language—a language that Salazar Slytherin could not possibly know—he didn’t show it. And if he asked how Harry could speak modern English, then Harry was pointing fingers in Hermione’s direction. His friend _had_ created a spell in their past life that had allowed them to speak a common language, after all.

“He is a beautiful snake, a magical version of a common tree snake, I believe?” not-Dumbledore said. Harry nodded and the unidentified wizard appeared to be fed up with the small talk.

“That’s it!” he barked. “Who the hell are all of you and why did you attack my Aurors!?”

Harry turned his sharp green eyes in the man’s direction and raised a brow. “ _I_ am Lord Salazar Slytherin, sir, and _you_ have yet to identify yourself,” hissed Harry softly with narrowed eyes, this time enunciating his _S_ ’s to intimidate the man as the sibilant sounds appeared to make him uncomfortable. “And your— _Aurors_ , did you call them?—attacked me and my companions, _not_ the other way around.”

The man’s face turned a bright shade of red when he looked at not-Dumbledore, who did nothing to refute Harry’s words. He immediately began to bluster and Harry took a perverse sort of satisfaction at the way the man stumbled over his words. A smirk tilted lazily at the corner of his mouth and his dark green eyes glinted in the moonlight.

“I’m Helga Hufflepuff,” Ginny then introduced herself to the man in English, sending Harry a quick glare. He merely smirked at her, not apologizing for intimidating the man. His blustering was rather funny and he deserved it for talking to him that way. “And these two are my brother Godric Gryffindor and my sister-in-law, Rowena Ravenclaw.”

The man had fallen silent as soon as Ginny began talking and he was now staring at them dumbfounded.

“This man is Auror Williamson,” not-Dumbledore cut in smoothly, looking at Harry. “He is the senior Auror who oversees the group of people you and your companions Stunned. He came to me immediately when one of his Aurors came back from being called here without his fellows.”

Harry glanced over at the group of Aurors who were still slumped over the ground. “You have our apologies,” Harry said to not-Dumbledore and Auror Williamson. “My friends and I have just arrived here straight from a battle and we were startled by your Aurors’ arrival and so we acted a little… brashly. You have my word that we mean you no harm.” To show his point, Harry removed his hand from his sword and reholstered his wand up his sleeve.

Slightly behind and beside him, Harry could hear Ron, Hermione, and Ginny doing the same, though he knew that if either of these wizards reached for their wands, then they would be ready to protect themselves within a second’s notice.

“Of course,” not-Dumbledore said, bowing his head. “And we, too, mean you no harm. Would you care to explain how you and your companions arrived here?”

Harry nodded sharply and side-eyed Auror Williamson. “I believe this conversation is best suited elsewhere and in privacy, Headmaster.”

“Why don’t we adjourn to somewhere you four will be more comfortable?” not-Dumbledore suggested before turning to the Auror. “I believe you can handle reviving your Aurors, Auror Williamson? Good? Well, I’ll be heading back to the castle with our guests then.”

The walk to Hogwarts was spent in relative silence. Well, for not-Dumbledore (who Harry was beginning to think was actually Dumbledore), that was. The four Founders, however, were busy discussing how to handle their current situation.

 _“Anyone have any suggestions on how to handle this?”_ Harry asked. _“It’s clear that_ **_something_ ** _went wrong with that last spell.”_

 _“We need to find out what year it is,”_ said Hermione immediately. _“Other than the obvious, look at the castle! It’s completely whole. It doesn’t look like it’s been overrun by Death Eaters or Voldemort sympathizers.”_

 _“It’s been so long since we’ve seen it like this…”_ Ginny said with wonder in her voice. The last time they’d seen the castle without any marks of battle had been at the end of Ginny’s fifth year and Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s sixth year. After Dumbledore’s death, the Order had thought it best to withdraw them from Hogwarts and teach them in hiding for the coming war.

It was silent for a few moments as they all gazed up at their home.

 _“We need to handle this gently,”_ Ron said eventually, shaking them out of their solemn moods. _“If we travelled back in time, and I’m pretty sure we did considering this person acts and looks exactly like Dumbledore, then we need to think of what our appearance might mean.”_

 _“Shall I take the lead, then?”_ Harry said. _“We all know that I am best suited for these types of situations.”_

 _“When have you ever travelled back in time and talked to a dead person?”_ Ginny mentally drawled with a slightly raised brow. Harry rolled his eyes slightly and would have nudged her with his arm if it wasn’t both unsuited for the person he was portraying to Dumbledore (and not to mention actually _was_ ) and would have told Dumbledore that they were somehow conversing without him overhearing.

 _“Well, it’s your time to shine, Salazar,”_ Hermione said just as they approached the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore’s office.

Harry strode forward and waved his hand at the gargoyle before Dumbledore could say his password, making it come to life and jump out of the way. This not only gave Dumbledore another reason to believe that they were who they said they were, but it also impressed him if the twinkle in his eyes said anything.

The portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts watched them curiously as they all walked into the room. Harry could see that only about two or three of the portraits recognized them for who they were, if their visible startlement was anything to go by.

Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk, and before he could conjure any chairs for them, Harry and Ron conjured their own while Hermione and Ginny took the chairs already there. Ron conjured a large, comfortable plush-like chair with bright red velvet and gold-painted wood to the left of Hermione while Harry conjured a dark-wood straight-back chair with green fabric which he sat to the right of Ginny. Ron may have gone for comfort, but since Harry was tired and he didn’t want to risk dozing off, he chose a chair that encouraged good posture and was slightly uncomfortable. (Professor McGonagall’s office chairs may or may not have been his inspiration.)

“Well,” started Dumbledore after they got somewhat comfortable, “I must say it is an honour to have the four of you here but I have to say that I am more surprised at your sudden appearance.”

“Our arrival here was an accident, I assure you,” said Harry dryly as he pinched his nose in a way that was reminiscent of the resident Potions Master. “We believe something went wrong with the spell we cast not too long ago that had us appearing here. Perhaps you could give us details of the place and... time that we are in?”

“Of course, Lord Slytherin,” said Dumbledore amiably. “You, of course, recognize Hogwarts and the current date is September 1st, 1996.”

A single blink was all that belied Harry’s surprise.

 _“That’s curious,”_ Harry mentally murmured to his companions.

 _“Yes,”_ thought Ginny. _“So we_ **_did_ ** _travel back in time?”_

 _“Not just back in time, I don’t think, either!”_ said Hermione with excitement in her voice. _“I think we’re in another universe, too! I wonder what could have done it? Something wrong with the spells, perhaps? We never really thought of all the different spells and variables that would be around when we drew up that spell… Something in the arithmancy could have gone wrong…”_

 _“And we lost her,”_ Ron mentally chuckled.

 _“Oh, shut up, Godric,”_ Hermione sniped before continuing, _“Salazar, we shouldn’t reveal our names from this lifetime until we figure out more about this world. If I’m right that this is a different universe, and you know I’m almost always right, then we need to figure out where the paths diverged and whether Voldemort is still alive here.”_

Harry mentally nodded before meeting Dumbledore’s eyes. “Well, we are quite a ways out of our time, aren’t we? Exactly a thousand years, I do believe,” said Harry, the last point directed toward the rest of the resurrected Founders, giving them a date to stand by when they eventually had to talk about their past. Harry wasn’t too sure how much of the daily lives of their past lives were documented, and so he didn’t want to risk saying or doing something that could make people suspicious. “It will take us quite a while to find a way back to our time, Headmaster, so I believe it would be prudent to learn the climate of this time. Is it peacetime or are we in a war? What is the situation with the mundanes? Are they aware of us or have our kind found a way to hide us as a whole?”

“Is Hogwarts the only magical school on the continent?” Hermione cut in. “What advances have been made in arithmancy? Oh! And Charms and Transfiguration and—”

“And the students!” Ginny added eagerly. “Are you accepting from all over the Isles? How many students does each House have? Are you still using the House system, for that matter?”

“How good is the food?”

All of them stopped and turned to Ron incredulously, who was lounging comfortably in his chair. He had a wide, toothy grin on his face.

“The _food_!” Hermione practically shrieked. “ _That_ is all you are curious about, Godric!?”

Ron snorted. “You’re overwhelming the poor man, Rowena,” he scolded her lightly, the smile still on his face. “And yes, I’m curious about the food! Surely they’ve found a way to safely and quickly import food from all over the continent? Imagine how far cuisine has gone!”

“Of course you’re worried about the _food_ , Ric,” Ginny muttered with a roll of her eyes. Harry’s lips twitched upward with a smirk as he looked at Dumbledore.

He was watching their byplay curiously with a twinkle in his eyes. The portraits, too, were listening in, not even bothering to pretend to sleep in the way they had done previously. Dumbledore caught Harry’s eye then as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny bickered and Harry lifted a brow at him.

The old headmaster cleared his throat to gather their attention. “Yes, well, I must say that Hogwarts’ cuisine has most likely improved over the centuries,” Dumbledore said to Ron, who grinned toothily. “And to answer some of your questions, we are currently on the fringes of a war. Muggles and wizards have been separated for three centuries now and it is illegal to reveal yourself to Muggles who are not closely related to you. Some wizards believe that we shouldn’t even accept Muggleborns into our community, and that is the basis of this war.”

He was staring into Harry’s eyes now, no doubt recalling the various rumours of him hating Muggles _and_ Muggleborns. Harry frowned slightly at the rather simple and lacking explanation of the war but nodded. He was not about to bring up his views on Muggles and Muggleborns as they were rather complex, but he felt that Dumbledore wanted to have a conversation with him soon. Harry would have to make it clear that history has somewhat exaggerated his disdain toward mundanes and their magical kin.

Dumbledore turned to Hermione and Ginny and began to answer their questions, starting with Hermione. “I am sure you’ll have time to learn as much as you can about magical advancements during your stay here, my Lady,” he told her. “And there are currently three main magical schools on the continent; Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. There are smaller academies in various countries and higher education for Masteries are included, as well.”

He then turned to Ginny. “We still use the four Houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin—to Sort our students into. We are currently accepting students from Wales, Ireland, Scotland, and England, and even some abroad whose parents attended Hogwarts. Due to the previous war thirty years ago, each year averages about forty students. The largest year count we’ve had was seventy students, I believe. Our students are sorted into various age categories; years one to seven, starting from the ages eleven at the youngest and eighteen for the oldest.”

“Oh, really?” said Ginny, her eyes lighting up. “That’s so many students! And the age grouping is such a good idea!” As Helga, she had been so very hopeful to even get a total of forty students between all the ages they accepted. To learn that students were sorted by year and that a single year group averaged around forty students? She was ecstatic (despite already knowing from her memories as Ginny, but she had to play the part).

“I wonder how we could separate students like that. We couldn’t do it by age group since some students have more experience in magic than others, but…” Hermione wondered aloud, playing her part as Rowena from the past beautifully.

“Please tell us more about this war, Headmaster,” Ron told Dumbledore, getting their conversation back on track. “You said that you’re on the fringes of war currently and that there had been a war thirty years previous?”

“Yes,” said Dumbledore with a slight grimace. “Thirty years ago, in the late 60s, the rumours of a new Dark Lord spread. At first, most people brushed the rumours off. There had been another Dark Lord, Grindelwald, twenty years before that who had terrorized much of the continent but hadn’t touched Britain much. I, personally, dealt with him.

“However, this rumoured Dark Lord, he was different than Grindelwald. He quickly came to power, and by the mid-seventies, numerous witches and wizards and Muggles were dead. This Dark Lord, who calls himself Voldemort, was quickly gaining power and supporters. I, as the previous conqueror of a Dark Lord, created a group to fight for the war effort. I named us the Order of the Phoenix. We were losing horribly, but fifteen years ago a… miracle of sorts happened.

“On Halloween night in 1981, Voldemort attacked a family in the Order and... he disappeared. Everyone believed him to be dead, but I knew he was not. You see, I had taught Voldemort when he had attended Hogwarts and I had my suspicions on the types of magic he was studying alone. He delved into the darkest of magic and he twisted himself into something not human. He made himself immortal. And my hunch came true because one year ago when he outed himself to the public.”

Harry frowned. _“He might have used Horcruxes here,"_ he thought to the rest of the resurrected Founders.

 _“And the prophecy may still be in effect, too,”_ Hermione pointed out.

 _“I think we can tell the truth now,”_ Ron decided. _“If we wait any longer, things may be harder to explain or we could possibly be seen at Death Eaters in disguise.”_

“Thank you for the information, Headmaster,” said Harry formally, “and I’m sorry to say that we haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Dumbledore’s lips thinned minutely as he looked at them with piercing blue eyes.

“You recognize us to be the Founders, and to an extent, that is the truth,” Harry continued. “We _are_ the Founders in mind, but not exactly in body. We were… reincarnated, you could say, but that is not the issue. The issue is that you appear to not recognize any of us, and though our bodies changed slightly to match our previous lives, at least three of us should be mildly recognizable yet your eyes hold no recognition.”

Dumbledore’s eyes flickered between them all, taking in their honest expressions, and yet they still held no recognition. “Perhaps you should tell me your names in this birth,” said Dumbledore slowly, no doubt stopping himself from blurting out queries and demands.

“My name in this birth is Harry James Potter,” Harry revealed. “The witch to my left is Ginevra Molly Weasley, the witch to her left is Hermione Jean Granger, and the remaining wizard is Ronald Billius Weasley.”

Dumbledore’s reaction was instantaneous. He turned a pasty white colour and closed his eyes, which had darkened in a mixture of grief and pain.

“I take it we’re not alive in this world, are we?” Harry asked needlessly, watching Dumbledore with shrewd eyes. He had a feeling he now knew where their worlds’ paths diverged.

“No, you are not,” said Dumbledore grievously, opening his eyes. “Please explain.”

“The beginning is the best place to start, isn’t it?” said Hermione rhetorically. “Well, I was born in this time as Hermione Jean Granger on September 12th, 1979. Godric was born on March 1st, 1980 as Ronald Billius Weasley, Salazar was born on July 31st, 1980 as Harry James Potter, and Helga was born on August 11th, 1981 as Ginevra Molly Weasley.”

“Did you always know that you were—are—the Founders?” Dumbledore asked them.

Hermione shook her head. “No, but I’m getting to that,” she scolded him lightly. “In this lifetime, our memories hadn’t been awakened yet. Harry, Ron, and I didn’t meet each other until our first year of Hogwarts in 1991. A year later, Ginny joined us. We had an… adventurous few years, to say the least.”

“You can say that again,” Ron snorted. Hermione ignored him.

“You see, on Samhain night in 1981, Voldemort attacked the Potters. Both James and Lily died, but when Voldemort tried to kill Harry, the Killing Curse rebounded.” Dumbledore’s eyes widened fractionally at that. Either something similar happened here or he was surprised that the curse hadn’t worked.

“I was sent to live with my only living relatives, the Dursleys,” Harry cut in, a sneer curling his lips as his voice dripped with disdain. “I grew up not knowing my heritage nor the fact that my parents had been murdered. All I retained from my infanthood was a nightmare of green light and a high-pitched laugh, and a pleasant dream of a flying motorcycle.

“When I was eleven, I was sent my Hogwarts letter. To make the story short, my relatives tried to outrun my birthright before Hagrid came personally to deliver my letter and to take me to Diagon Alley. He was the one to tell me what truly happened that night and that I was dubbed the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ because I survived the night my parents died.” Harry sneered. “Eventually, I got to Hogwarts where I proceeded to encounter Voldemort almost every year until he was resurrected in the June of 1995, the end of my fourth school year.”

Hermione picked up where Harry left off. “Nobody believed Harry or the Dumbledore from our universe when they said that Voldemort was back. Dumbledore started the Order back up, and while we weren’t a part of it since we were kids, the Weasleys were. The Weasleys had taken to housing both Harry and me so it was only natural that we lived in Headquarters with them. They couldn’t live in the Burrow because it was too dangerous and Grimmauld Place was under Fidelius so it was the ideal location. It wasn’t until the end of fifth year, last year for you but eight years ago for us, that Voldemort revealed himself.”

“The war became bad,” said Ginny quietly. “Muggleborns were being murdered left, right, and centre and most first years were killed before they even got their Hogwarts letter. Thousands of Muggles and hundreds of witches and wizards died.”

“Our parents and brothers died fighting,” said Ron, closing his eyes against the grief. It had been almost five years since their deaths but the grief of losing your whole family was something that was diminished over decades, not half of one. “And Harry lost _everyone_ , Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Teddy…”

Harry couldn’t help but flinch slightly at the reminder of his godson. That pain was too fresh. It had only been two years, after all.

“And I had to Obliviate my parents and little sister,” said Hermione in a whisper, her eyes shining in tears. “I sent them off to Australia and Harry donated enough coin from his vaults to give them a happy life—or as happy as they could be while having the feeling of missing _something_ in their life.”

“We all lost our family, and our friends,” continued Harry with a cool, emotionless voice. He pushed back his emotions to deal with later. “At the end of fifth year, Dumbledore told me of a prophecy that I later related to my friends. A prophecy that prophesied the one to defeat the Dark Lord, whose parents thrice defied him and was born as the seventh month dies…”

“He told you the prophecy?” Dumbledore said in surprise.

“He did. I needed to know,” said Harry with a pointed look. He was still bitter that the Dumbledore from his world had waited until _after_ Sirius died to tell him such an important detail. “He also told me about certain little trinkets that would allow Voldemort immortality before his death.”

“The Horcruxes?” breathed Dumbledore, his voice alight with horror. “Tom made _Horcruxes_?”

“Yes,” said Harry blandly. “Did you not know?”

“No, no, I suspected, but…”

“But you didn’t expect a madman to tear apart his soul?” Ron suggested dryly.

“That’s probably why he’s a bleeding maniac,” said Ginny heatedly with a sneer. She still had nightmares from when the diary possessed her and her soul would forever have a stain on it (like Harry’s) from when Tom’s soul touched hers for a number of months.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Hermione said, cutting them all off with a rebuking glare, “we, all four of us, were sent on a wild goose chase by your dead counterpart. Eventually, a few months ago, that led us back to Hogwarts.”

“There’s a Horcrux here!?” Dumbledore practically roared. Harry blinked in surprise. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Dumbledore raise his voice like that before.

“Yes, and we’ll take care of it,” Hermione said, flapping her hand at him. “Anyway, as soon as we entered the Room of Requirement,” Dumbledore looked curious but didn’t dare to interrupt Hermione again, “we all collapsed.”

“It turns out that Hogwarts became sentient in our absence since founding the school,” said Harry dryly. Hogwarts, who had no doubt been listening in on their conversation, reacted to that by sending him a warm blast of magic. “She had sensed that we had the potential to be the Founders as soon as we crossed the lake.”

“How did she sense that?” Dumbledore asked in interest.

“Hogwarts can apparently sense who has a Founders’ blood in them,” Ron answered with a shrug. “Apparently, we’re all descendants of, well, ourselves.”

Dumbledore blinked slowly. “Don’t think too hard about it,” suggested Ginny.

“It turns out that Hogwarts had been watching us for years, sensing that not only were we descendants of the Founders, but we also had the potential _to be_ the Founders. She saw all of our past selves in ourselves, but she decided to watch us first as we had all rejected our rightful Houses for one reason or another,” said Hermione, sounding slightly chagrined as she blushed slightly. “She had decided that she wanted to awaken our past memories in ourselves during seventh year, Ginny's sixth, but we _hadn’t_ returned for our seventh year. Instead, we were all squirrelled away by the Order into training and searching for the Horcruxes. So, when we came looking for the Horcrux we knew was in the castle, she took matters into her, er, not-hands and returned our memories to us as.”

“Biggest bleeding migraine I’ve ever had,” said Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“Basically,” said Harry, “Hogwarts stuffed our past lives into our heads while we were unconscious.”

“I ended up with around eighty years' worth of memories crammed inside my mind,” Ginny chimed in with a slight grimace. “I lived the longest out of all of us.” Harry winced at that. He still felt immensely guilty that he had left Hogwarts and hadn’t returned, leaving Ginny with the rest of the Founders, and then eventually on her own when Rowena and Godric died. They hadn’t discussed much about what happened between them, the four of them, as they had to deal with Voldemort. Harry wasn’t looking forward to it.

Ginny, no doubt sensing his thoughts, took his hand and squeezed it.

“When we woke up,” Hermione continued, “we immediately recognized each other by our previous names. Not only had we gained our previous memories, but we had also changed physically. That’s probably why you didn’t recognize us straight away.”

And that was true, they _had_ changed to look like a meld between their previous and current selves.

The magic Hogwarts had put in them had somewhat healed them from their previous years of hardship. Some scars had faded, some wounds had healed, and they had all lost that half-starved look from the little food they managed to scrounge up in the forest. The dark circles beneath their eyes faded and the gauntness of their faces disappeared. Instead, they appeared almost perfectly healthy. In fact, they had looked the healthiest they had _ever_ been. All of them had grown at least a few inches, Harry shooting up to two inches below Ron’s six-foot-four, and Hermione’s shoulders had become less broad while Ginny’s hips had done the opposite. Ron, too, became broader in some ways, looking less gangly and more like the swordsman he had been in his previous life.

Other than that, most of their features changed somewhat. Harry and Hermione’s faces sharpened and became more aristocratic while Ginny’s features softened and her face became more heart-shaped and Ron’s awkwardly long nose had shrunk and his features became just a tad broader, matching the rest of his body’s changes. He had grown a beard, too, and his orange hair had become a red mane reaching his shoulders.

Ron wasn’t the only one who gained a new haircut, however. Harry’s characteristically messy hair had grown past his shoulders and become slightly curly. Hermione’s hair, too, had become less unruly, now falling into loose dark-brown, almost black ringlets when it wasn’t braided or done up in a bun. Ginny’s fiery hair had become wavy and had darkened into a dark auburn, becoming something between Helga’s dark brown and Ginny’s fiery orange. Their eyes had stayed the same as they mirrored their past lives’ eyes, but Harry’s eyes had mirrored the perfect vision he’d had as Salazar. His skin colour had changed, though, going from the sickly white colour he had all his life and turning into the dark-olive complexion his Welsh parents, James in this life and his mother in his previous life, had.

Dumbledore’s eyes roamed over them, taking in the features he likely recognized from their portraits of the Founders and the features they retained from their families in their second life.

“Yes, you do look quite different from your families,” Dumbledore said, “though not so much that you’d be completely unrecognizable should you decide to reveal the truth of who you are.”

Harry frowned as he remembered something. “Headmaster, how did we die in this world, exactly?” he asked. “If they won’t recognize us straight away…” Dumbledore bowed his head and closed his eyes.

“You died on Halloween,” said Dumbledore, confirming his suspicions. “We don’t know exactly how that happened, but all we know is that your mother and father tried to protect you but couldn’t and they, instead, had survived” Harry nodded, and with a pang in his heart, wondered how his alternate parents dealt with the grief and guilt of failure. Dumbledore turned reluctantly to Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, it was the troll, wasn’t it?” Hermione said softly before Dumbledore could say anything. His grimace was enough of an answer for her. “Ron, too?” she then asked, clutching Ron’s hand. He wrapped an arm around Hermione and Harry detected some guilt from him. He had a feeling that both of them were thinking of the troll incident from their universe, and how it had incidentally been Ron’s fault that they had to save Hermione.

“Young Ronald tried to save Ms Granger when he heard that she had been in the bathroom during the Halloween feast and hadn’t heard of the troll,” said Dumbledore, the grief for two young students clear in his voice. “They were both killed by the troll instead. I assume that this event happened similarly in your universe?”

“Yes,” Ron said, closing his eyes. “Hermione and I didn’t get along for the first month or so. She had made me feel inadequate in class and I thought she was being rather condescending when she was trying to help me. I made a stupid remark I shouldn’t have and she ran off crying to the girls’ loo.”

Harry picked up where his best mate left off, not wanting him to struggle anymore. “Ron and I didn’t know that and so we went to the feast. I hadn’t wanted to go because of my parents but Ron insisted. I had overheard two girls talking about how Hermione had been crying in the loo since Charms class ended but hadn’t thought much of it until Professor Quirrell ran into the Great Hall, shouting about a troll. We had been halfway to the common room before I remembered and Ron and I went off to help her.”

“I had just been about to leave the loo, remembering that there was a mandatory feast I had to attend when the Troll came in,” Hermione said. “I screamed and froze and any knowledge I’d learned the previous few months flew out of my head. That’s when Ron and Harry came in. They distracted the Troll while I stood there. Harry came up with the brilliant idea to distract it and so Ron—” she giggled slightly at this and Ron groaned in embarrassment, knowing what was coming “—called it ‘pea-brain’.”

Ginny snickered. “Real creative, there, Ric,” she said. Ron rolled his eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he sniffed before aiming a look at Harry. “And besides, _I’m_ not the one who _jumped on the troll and shoved his wand up its nose_!”

Some of the portraits tittered at that and Harry glared at Ron without any heat. “Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to let it crush you?” he drawled. “But yes, I accidentally stuffed my wand up its nose. It distracted the troll long enough for Ron to levitate its club—with the spell he had been having trouble with earlier, not to mention—and knock it out.”

“With its own club, don’t forget that!” Ron added gleefully.

Hermione shook her head and got them back on task. “Anyway, what happened to this world’s Ginny?”

Dumbledore grimaced. “She got very ill not long after starting her first year,” he said heavily. “It is believed that she couldn’t take the death of her older brother and the stress of living in a boarding school and she simply… died in her sleep.”

The four resurrected Founders stared at Dumbledore with wide eyes. “ _What_?” blurted Ginny. “What about the diary? And the Chamber of Secrets!”

“Diary?” said Dumbledore blankly. “And the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Yes!” said Ginny. “In my world, I was slipped a diary by Lucius Malfoy that turned out to be one of Tom’s when he’d been a teenager. He made it into one of his Horcruxes with Myrtle’s death. It possessed me and made me open the Chamber of Secrets. If it hadn’t been for Harry, I would have died down there and we probably would have had two Voldemorts running around…”

All parties in the room grimaced at that thought. They had enough trouble with _one_ Voldemort and they couldn’t fathom dealing with _two_ at the same time.

Dumbledore shook his head as he thought. “No, the Chamber never reopened. But, I believe I remember her mother mentioning something about a diary Ms Weasley had taken to writing in… Weeks before her death, Ms Weasley had been found carrying it around with her everywhere and writing in it frequently. When she died, her mother and father tried to read the diary to see if she’d written anything in it that could relate to her illness, but nothing had been written in it. It was just empty, yellowed pages.”

There was a sudden, horrified silence.

“Please don’t tell me that means that two Voldemorts are running around!” Ron blurted.

Harry frowned. “No…” he said slowly, “I don’t think that there are two Voldemorts running around. Do you remember my reactions to the Horcruxes and Voldemort’s presence? I could _feel_ the soul shard in them and I was attracted to them much like a magnet. Voldemort and Tom would have been able to feel each other more strongly because they’re part of the same soul and not just a soul shard attached to another's soul. And if I remember correctly, it isn’t just remorse that can meld soul shards together. Headmaster, how did Voldemort look the last time you saw him?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were widened as if something had suddenly come to mind. “He looked no older than your parents,” he said, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Harry nodded. “Yes, the two soul pieces must have found each other and combined somehow. Wraith Voldemort and Horcrux Tom. His physical form would have become younger because Tom was sixteen when he became a Horcrux and the remainder of Voldemort’s soul was in his mid-sixties. He would most likely appear at least forty years old.”

“How do you know this?” Dumbledore asked him curiously.

Harry gave him a piercing stare. “I’m not just Harry Potter, but also Salazar Slytherin, a dark wizard with various Masteries in the Dark Arts. I studied necromancy and immortality for a few months before deciding it was too black and twisted for my tastes.”

What Harry didn’t mention was that his interest in necromancy followed the death of his wife and child and he had started to corrupt himself. It was only when he began to have thoughts of wiping out mundane villages did he realize that the black magic was turning him into something he was not. Those few months he did the magic, however, forever left a stain on him. He still had a violent, vindictive side that would love to watch the mundanes that killed his daughter squirm and scream and plead, but who wouldn’t? That stain changed his views on things, however, and it was what started the rumours that he hated both mundanes _and_ their magical offspring.

“Anyhow, we now know how our worlds differ,” said Harry, breaking out of his thoughts. “Now we need to determine whether or not we tell the Order. You _have_ restarted the Order of the Phoenix, correct?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, I started it as soon as I suspected Tom returned,” he said before frowning. “Telling the Order the truth of your origins wouldn’t be advisable, however.”

“Why?” Ginny asked with a frown. “I assume that our alternate families are a part of it, aren’t they? Wouldn’t they want to know that we’re their children?” Ron, like his sister, was frowning. Hermione, however, had a look in her eye that told Harry she had at least a modicum of understanding for the situation.

“Because this version of our parents lost their children,” Harry said with a deep-seated understanding in his tone, “and _we_ are those children. Well, perhaps not Hermione, but think of what James and Lily, Remus and Sirius, and what Mr and Mrs Weasley would do if it was revealed that we are their children who had died in this world? How do you think they would feel if we revealed that we are partaking in the war, Helga?”

“Oh,” Ginny breathed as she clutched his hand. Harry stared blankly at the wall behind Dumbledore’s head. Ron and Ginny and Hermione, they might have lost family, but they didn’t know what it was like to lose a small child. Hermione was perhaps the closest, as she had lost her daughter Helena while on her deathbed as Rowena, and then her little sister as Hermione when she Obliviated her family. But they didn’t know the grief of outliving their children as he did. Ginny, as far as he was aware, hadn't outlived her children, and Ron had died before Hermione and Helena.

“Do you think that they would try to stop us from participating?” Hermione asked after a few moments. Ginny and Ron were frowning. They hadn’t liked it when their mother refused to let them join the Order when they were teenagers in their world, and they would hate it even more when this alternate version of their mother tried to prevent them, adults that they were, from participating.

“Maybe, maybe not,” said Harry before looking at Ron and Ginny, “Think of your parents. How do you think they’d feel when faced with us? I have no doubt that Mr and Mrs Weasley would accept you with open arms, but they’ve been mourning you for years. You cannot simply throw away that grief.”

“But wouldn’t they want to get to know us?” Ron cut in almost desperately. “Wouldn’t they want to know we’re healthy and alive? Do you think that they’d turn their backs on us, Salazar? We are their _children_! And your parents have been mourning you for fifteen years! Surely they’d like to get to know their son?”

Harry sucked in a deep breath. “I have no doubt that they should get to know their children—or at least a version of them,” he said, his eyes piercing Ron’s. “I don’t think your parents would forsake us, Godric.” Tried as he might, Harry could not completely keep the frigid tone out of his voice. What Harry didn't say aloud was that he fully expected his own parents and Sirius to forsake him. Remus, being the “dark creature” that he was, might understand him, but his support was sometimes fickle when faced with the judgement of his best friends. And Harry, he was not their Light-oriented son who was murdered fifteen years ago. No, he was Salazar Slytherin reincarnated, a Dark wizard in his own right, who'd had no qualms about killing mundanes in the past.

Hermione’s dark brown eyes pierced him from where she sat next to Ron. Harry knew that she had caught onto his wording, or lack thereof, of his own alternate parents. When she did not say anything via their mindlink, he knew she felt the same.

“Ro?” Ron asked, turning to his wife. “What do you think?”

They all turned to Hermione, used to her council when they did not agree with one another. It had always been like that, even when they had just been Harry and Ron and Hermione, not just the Founders of Hogwarts.

“I think Sal’s right,” she said tentatively. “I wouldn’t dare think to involve my own parents into the war the way it is currently and I have no idea how they would react to their adult daughter who survived the troll encounter from a separate universe. And as much as I love your parents Ron, Ginny, your mum would do everything in her power to stop you from partaking in the war. I know that you’d ignore her, but that would just make her feel worse, especially if you end up getting hurt. It would be best if we didn’t mention our other identities for now.”

“Both Salazar and Rowena are correct,” said Dumbledore after a few moments, using their older names to cement his view. “Your parents and family would undoubtedly try to stop you from participating in the war. It would be in your best interests to inform them of who you are _after_ Voldemort has been defeated.”

It was silent for a few moments, between Ron’s frowning and Ginny’s upset fidgeting. Harry had a feeling he knew what Ginny was thinking about. She had missed her parents, and with her memories as Helga, it probably felt like it’d been much longer since she’d last seen them. All she wanted to do was see them, even if they were an alternate version of her parents, and she already felt bad about deceiving them. Still, after a few moments, she met Harry’s eyes.

 _“I want to see them so badly…”_ she murmured to him mentally.

 _“You’ll still be able to see them, dearheart,”_ he told her, using the pet name he used to use when they were Helga and Salazar. It made her smile slightly. _“You just won’t be able to let them know who you are. Not yet, anyway.”_

After searching his eyes, for what Harry didn’t know, Ginny sighed. “Okay,” she consented aloud. “But if something happens, then we need to tell them.”

“Agreed,” said Ron immediately. It appeared that he, too, wanted to tell his parents who they were. Harry knew that he was biased since he’d never met his parents and could put off telling them about him a little longer. (And also because he was almost absolutely sure that they would abandon him after finding out that he was very much a Dark wizard.) Hermione, likewise, could put off telling her parents who she was because they were Muggles and she wanted to keep them safe.

Harry and Hermione nodded to show that they agreed and that was that.

“Now it comes to the matter of what to tell the students tomorrow,” said Dumbledore, leaning forward in his chair. “They all must know that something had happened by now, we all heard what must have been your entrance into this world, and while I could play it off as a mere mishap amongst two villagers in Hogsmeade, I feel it would be better to introduce you as Founders from the future. It would make sense, considering your appearances.”

“And it would give the children something to look forward to considering that Voldemort’s on the rise again,” said Ginny shrewdly, almost immediately catching onto one of Dumbledore’s main reasons for introducing them as who they are. The headmaster merely smiled at her, nonplussed at being caught out.

“It will also give an answer as to who these four random adults in the castle are,” Hermione added. “I’ll need to visit the library—you too, Helga—to see what brought us here so we don’t replicate it again. While I like researching new magic as much as the next woman, it would be best if we’re not thrown to another universe every time we use our spell that defeated Voldemort in our home universe.”

“It could be fun,” Ron merely shrugged. “I don’t care either way. But as you said, Hel, it would cheer up the kids a bit to have the Founders sharing the castle with them for the foreseeable future.”

They all turned to Harry.

“I’m not… opposed to that idea,” he said slowly. Harry had always hated having so much attention on him, but he had grown used to it over the years, especially after he'd gained his memories as Salazar. And while he’d rather pretend that they’re just scholars using Hogwarts’ facilities, he could see the appeal of displaying themselves as the Founders. It would certainly be a step in the direction of showing that not all rumours about the Founders were true. He could even begin to repair his rather poor reputation…

“So that settles it, then!” Ginny said cheerfully, taking his reluctant response as a resounding yes. Harry couldn’t help but crack a small smile in the direction of his… girlfriend. That was the best term he had for Ginny at the moment. They weren’t anywhere near handfasting like what Ron and Hermione had done, now for all intents and purposes married in both mind and magic. The two had spent decades together as Godric and Rowena and had then spent years together as Ron and Hermione, so it was only natural that they handfasted, tying them together only months after regaining their memories.

Harry and Ginny, on the other hand, had a somewhat difficult relationship. The best term he had was that they were courting. Courting was stronger than the regular relationship between a boyfriend and girlfriend as it was meant for two people who were intending to marry but wanted to see if they worked well together.

That was what Harry was currently thinking. He had loved Helga when he was Salazar and he loved Ginny as Harry. Technically, they were actually engaged. Ginny was wearing a ring he’d chosen for her before they’d regained their memories of the past, but now he was not so sure of their standing. When they regained their memories, Harry had also regained those years of being without Helga. Of when he left her and Hogwarts.

It was, to say the least, difficult to see what their standing currently was. They had barely talked about when they split ways in the past, too busy with Voldemort and the war to work out their issues. That was another conversation Harry wasn’t looking forward to but knew they had to have.

“I suppose it does,” said Dumbledore with amusement in his voice, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. “Tomorrow during breakfast we’ll make the announcement.”

“That’s a good idea,” Hermione said. “The students need to get their schedules so they can’t skip so they’d all be there to hear the announcement.”

“Precisely what I thought, my Lady!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Now, I believe you’ll need somewhere to sleep? I am sure that it won’t take long for the house elves to clean out two—three?—guest rooms?”

“Oh, that won’t be needed, Headmaster,” said Hermione, standing and making the others follow suit. “We’ve our own quarters in the castle. I have no doubt that the wards on them have been shut tight since our deaths.”

Harry mentally grimaced as he recalled the state of his chambers from their universe. Their wards might not have failed, but _his_ had some time ago, causing a part of the main hall of his chamber to flood and for the dampness to seep into his rooms. All of his furniture and linens were no doubt mouldy and very much in need of repairs—or an incinerator. Either one really. And one couldn’t forget the thousand-year-old basilisk down there, either.

His poor Alys must be insane by now.

“You can stay with me,” Ginny said, no doubt realizing what he was thinking. Harry considered teasing her about how inappropriate it would be for two people courting to share beds when they’re not wed, but decided he was too tired. Plus, they were already engaged and had shared beds multiple times over the years ever since they started dating. That hadn’t stopped after they’d regained their memories, thankfully, since Harry was sure that he’d be walking around the like dead as he was unable to sleep without Ginny. It was almost pathetic, really, the way he relied on her.

“Thank you, dearheart,” Harry murmured, running a thumb over the engagement ring on her finger.

“Well, allow me to bid you goodnight,” said Dumbledore, having stood when they did.

“Goodnight, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry said, bowing toward the man. He waited for the rest of his companions to say their salutations before escorting Ginny to her rooms.


End file.
